


Thereafter

by LunarCallisto



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Angst, Epiphanies, F/M, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Master/Servant, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Post-Time Skip, Romantic Tension, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 16:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20708999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarCallisto/pseuds/LunarCallisto
Summary: He must knowwhyhis master had awakened this inner peace, andhow. Clearly it had happened after he had disappeared and before he had returned.Alucard seeks to uncover a mystery about Integra, a mystery that involves scars.





	Thereafter

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly I wrote this fic based off [these](https://lunarcrystal.tumblr.com/post/187131302867/justin-ripley-justin-ripley-when-person-a/) prompts I saw on tumblr, but also just cuz' I wanted to write Alucard getting reacquainted with Integra and Seras... AND cuz' I just wanted to write some REAL bittersweet elder Integra & Alucard interaction, I feel there's just not enough fics for them post timeskip.
> 
> Also I read somewhere that Alucard's eyes changed from red to pink due to absorbing Schrodinger, I just really liked that headcanon so much that you'll see descriptions of his eye color as pink or shades of pink. lol
> 
> mood music: [x](https://youtu.be/DqpPRj6UZqc/) [x](https://youtu.be/D0sK5BLFBag/) [x](https://youtu.be/SRvLD6X-eho/)

**W**hile his attention had been focused on his master’s slumbering form the moment he flickered back into the world of the living; he couldn’t help but also take in the papers scattered all about her usually pristine bedroom. Papers that had lines upon lines of what appeared to be incantations written in Latin, mirrored Latin or old German. There were even symbols, many of which resembled the seal of his gloves, drawn haphazardly, as if in a rush.

Though he hadn’t paid_ much_ attention to all of that, he was much more focused on his master’s steady breathing. The calming thud of her heartbeat, the warm scent of her that was flavored with heady iron notes of the blood flowing through her veins. _Sweet _Hellsing blood.

Alucard salivated, he knew she’d wake no matter how well he concealed his presence; but he was _so_ very hungry, and her bare neck looked _so_ tantalizing to him.

Before his tongue could even reach out to savor the taste of her flesh, she woke and blasted several—thankfully lead—bullets into his head and abdomen.

Ever his charming master._ God_, how he had missed her.

Then his fledgling had added to the fun when she kicked the bedroom door open, screaming in that shrill voice of hers with her leg poised so high she incidentally flashed her underwear for all to see.

Ah—how he had missed them both, very much.

* * *

For two months the ancient vampire stayed shut inside his coffin, sleeping days and nights away. He had missed his old box, his little bag of home buried beneath it. He needed the rest, truthfully. Having spent what was said to be thirty or so years within himself, killing soul after soul after soul—really to Alucard, it had only felt like a couple days, maybe even a couple hours.

Time was an illusion to the vampire.

And time would always move forward, with or without him. The Hellsing manor was far from what it had looked like in the past. Even if he had only spent the rest of the first night in his master’s bedroom, feeding off her, playing catch-up on recent events and then admiring his fledgling's new-found strength.

Seras, who had only grown stronger, and fiercer in his absence. No longer was she the skittish police girl he sired. While she still maintained that rather bubbly outward appearance, there was a malicious hunger within her that was nearly akin to his own. She was raw, and unafraid, and not alone in her thoughts either. She had turned that French mercenary into her own familiar, but his soul was more than just her poppet. He was her, and she was him. The Frenchman had taken his residence in the form of her right arm, a whipping mass of black and red tendrils.

Alucard had been impressed. Pip Bernadette can communicate with Seras, act on his own to protect her, and be used as sentient security for the manor. He was a perfect defense.

It made Alucard think of his own favored familiar, the black hound, Baskerville. He missed that mischievous mutt. Too bad he had to put the old dog down.

_Now_ his master; while time hadn't touched him, it had certainly reached Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. With thirty years gone by—she had evolved from the beautiful noble knight he knew to a true war-leader of Hellsing—and she was still very beautiful in his eyes, if not more so.

Integra had gone through many trials and tribulations to reach this very point, he knew that all too well. He had aided her in some of them even, goaded her into making her choices that would either cause her to rise in power, or fall from that steep ledge she so desperately clung on to.

True he had often played the devil’s advocate, but deep down he believed she would persevere, and she had. Alucard was proud of her. _His dear master_.

She was an iron maiden through and through, _that _part of her hadn’t changed, but now she carried herself… _differently_. It became mind boggling to him. There’s something else about this elder Integra that’s so vastly different from the one he had known. He came to this conclusion when he had tasted her blood.

Blood had always been more than just his source of food. He can collect memories, thoughts, and feelings from one if he drank more than enough. Can create children of the damned with only a bite. And devouring the body whole would only force that soul to become a part of him.

It was his own bread and wine, one could say. 

Unfortunately, Alucard was a glutton in the past. He refused to watch the lives of those he feasted on. It made no matter to him, they were all just sustenance, and he was hungry. He would always be hungry.

But with expertise and a former kings’ patience, he had honed himself to separate each persona within him. Emotions were often something that became discombobulated inside of him, because he had so many souls, so many lives. It started to affect him in ways he couldn’t imagine.

Their despair, their sorrow, their hope and pride. Their joy and elation, their lust, and envy. Made a concoction of insanity, primed his hedonistic nature. Every feeling he could map out, and every thought of theirs he could hear before death. And he just wanted to feed more and more, because he was a masochist at heart.

_I want more of their pain. More. More. More! _

He had wanted nothing more than to fill the emptiness inside of him.

All of that was in the past, and no matter how starved he gets, he would never host that many lives within him again. But now, because of his gluttony, with just the _tiniest_ drop of blood, he could read an individual through the taste of them alone. This intimate power was ten times stronger than invading one’s thoughts.

More importantly he got the truth quicker, which had always been trickier in the past with more unyielding folk. Say for instance, his master.

Alucard had nitpicked into Integra’s psyche as he lapped at her finger that night. What he felt had been _euphoric_—Looking into a single blue eye, the feelings that washed over him were that of adoration, irritableness, astonishment, longing and desire.

And there was a harmony there, that had been absent before. Integra, who always had a chip in her shoulder, always too guarded, always too stony, too tense to relax, was _finally_ at ease within herself.

_But, why?_

_Was it that he had returned?_

No. That’s mere wishful thinking. Those feelings had always been there. But they were still relatively new.

He must know why his master had awakened this inner peace, and how. Clearly it had happened after he had disappeared and _before_ he had returned.

Well into late March, Alucard had roused from his slumber to a distant humming. His glowing magenta eyes took in the cozy darkness of his coffin before he slid the lid back and arose, stretching languidly like a cat as he did so. He was rejuvenated, his senses were more alive than he had ever felt in his five hundred and plus years.

His finely tuned hearing picked up the sounds of scuffling shoes upstairs, a cacophony of voices, water splashing, metal clashing against metal, the hammer strike of a rifle, miles away were the whir and rumble of vehicles, and there behind it all, was that melodious humming.

_Seras_. Of course_, _It had to be Seras.

He smiled.

* * *

It was a quarter after dusk, the sun had long set on the horizon. Alucard was glad he hadn’t woken up too late, nor too early. Just the right hour when the crickets began chirping and the skies were a lovely purple. He found his little fledgling in the gardens, sitting on one of the stone benches. She had a pair of clippers in hand and was in the process of cutting off the stems of white carnations.

In front of her were the tall bushes where the flora grew in various vibrant colors. Some were a deep maroon red that caught his wandering eye, he plucked one as he sauntered up to his protégé.

“Evening.”

Seras looked up from her task grinning, her fine fangs on display. “Evening, master. How was your nap?”

“Slept like a babe who suckled too much milk. Have I missed anything important while I was asleep?”

The Draculina pursed her lips. “Hm, not really. Hellsing had recruited new gatekeepers for the manor last month, though besides that everything has been the usual.”

“The usual? Were there breakouts of rogue lowly vampires then?”

“Uh, no.”

“Ghouls?”

“No.”

“Vampire Nazis?”

“Nope.”

“… Just Nazis?”

Seras opened her mouth then shut it, pondering a bit before shrugging, “There will always be mad folk like _that_ in the world, master.”

“All the better to get rid of them.” The elder vampire gave a Cheshire grin.

“Might have to take it up with Sir Integra then! I’m sure you’re itching to get back on the battlefield.”

Alucard twiddled the flower between his fingers, then opened his palm to let it drift it away.

“Hm… not quite. I’ve been on the battlefield for thirty years, I could use a break. But I bore _very_ easily. If it gets too chummy around here, I _might_ have to cause trouble myself.”

“Sir Integra won’t like that.”

His grin only widened.

“And who are those for, might I ask?” Alucard pointed to the white carnations she had trimmed.

Seras put down the clippers, gathering the carnations to make a bouquet in her good hand.

“Oh! Well these, I was going to pay my respects to the dead tonight.”

“How sweet,” Alucard crooned, “They aren’t for me are they?”

“Har Har, very funny, Master. I meant the _buried_ dead.” Seras stood from the bench, with the flowers in tow. “These are actually meant for Pip.”

“The Frenchman, why? Doesn’t his soul reside in you?”

Seras pouted, “Well, yes but it’s the thought that counts!”

_‘You tell’em Seras!’ _A disembodied voice chirped.

Seras shushed said mercenary, her right arm flared a bright red, wispy tendrils whipped about her before immediately calming down.

“Look, master. Over there.” Seras gestured with her glowing arm to the tall hedges behind the bench.

Alucard followed her line of sight. He knew where she was pointing too. The private cemetery lot owned by Hellsing. Even with the blockade of hedges obstructing his sight, he could plainly see the rows upon rows of polished tombstones. Each with an engraved name, a date of birth, a date of death, and a farewell.

“I made it my duty to place fresh flowers on all the graves of the Wild Geese once the old ones start wilting.” She turned to face the bench but stayed looking past the hedges.

“Even for the Hellsing soldiers who died in combat. I’ve been doing it for awhile now.”

“I see.”

Alucard couldn’t feel the same remorse for the dead as his fledgling; but then Seras always had a righteous heart, even now when it’s no longer beating.

“The good thing is the death toll for the men we lose in missions decrease every year. I train them myself, y’know!” She piped with a cheeky grin, craning her neck to look up at him.

“You?”

“Yup!”

Alucard nodded. She seemed quite proud of herself to train average human foot soldiers, but it was still a peculiar feat for a vampire to be put in charge of a private militia. He wondered if Integra would ever let _him_ train her men.

“Does Integra pay her respects too?”

“Sometimes.” Seras shrugged, “But she’s always very busy, and even when she has free time, she decides to fill it up with more work! It’s no wonder she has under eye circles, and yet she complains about that too!”

The Draculina huffed as Alucard let out a chuckle.

“She’s a workaholic,” he turned away from the younger vampire and began walking down the narrow cobble stone path that led to the fountain in the middle of the garden, “_that_ part of her hasn’t changed either.”

_“Still!”_ Seras whined as she followed him. “She’s been so fussy about her age lately, she hates seeing the wrinkles on her face, and she’s been trying to exercise herself to exhaustion just because she believes she’s losing her game.”

Alucard snorted. “I doubt that. She had rather good aim on that night.”

“It’s just… she’s _so_ glum about it. I worry for her, master.”

Sera’s tone grew softer. “I… I like to jest with her a lot, about… you know, biting her and making her a vampire so she can live forever.”

The elder vampire came to an abrupt stop, which caused Seras to collide with his back. Tendrils of Alucard’s ink black hair wriggled menacingly close to the Draculina.

She squeaked, jumping away. “But I am joking! _Just_ a joke! Master, you know I would never do that.”

The inky tendrils shrunk back, and Alucard began walking again. His fledging exhaled in annoyance.

“Ugh, you know you don’t have to be _so_ possessive. I’ve been with her a great deal longer than you have now.” Seras sniffed. “_And_ I can sense you want to talk with her, I believe she’s in the indoor swimming pool, but I’m guessing you already know that.”

“Of course, I do.” Alucard looked over his shoulder with a languid grin. “In fact, I’m with her right now.”

* * *

The indoor pool room used to be the old dance hall, to Alucard’s knowledge of this historic building. It had also used to be Hellsing’s own vaudeville theater back in the late nineteenth, and early twentieth centuries; before Arthur Hellsing had torn it down in the late forties, to make a place for his shoddy parties.

None of which Alucard was ever invited, even though it took place in his very own place of residence.

The room was located on the ground level of the manor, and was_ overly _spacious, even with the large rectangular pool situated right in the middle. The skylight ceilings were vaulted high above, vined pillars lined the room parallel to each other, and Integra even took it upon herself to spruce up the place with her own designs. Going by the large black, gold and red Hellsing insignia that was tiled into the pool floor. And hanging by the foot of the pool suspended by golden chains linked to the last two pillars was the Lutheran cross.

Everything was so blindingly white due to the florescent lighting, safe for the two symbols that made up Hellsing. It practically put a strain on his corneas.

But not even sunlight at the earliest hours would keep his eyes away from his master. She hadn’t acknowledged his presence, but he could sense that she knew he was watching. Integra continued her laps, doing twelve in total. She wasn’t an excellent swimmer, there was nothing graceful about the way she kicked and propelled herself, but her strokes looked swift. Not that _he_ would know anything of swimming techniques.

By the twelfth lap, she reached the front of the pool, floating towards the ladder, she emerged wet, her navy one-piece sticking to her body like a second skin, and with his name on her down-turned lips.

“Alucard.”

He grinned. Approaching her with the white fluffy towel he had swiped the moment he first appeared in the room.

“My master.”

She yanked the towel from his hands, with a loud, “Hmph!”

Integra removed the swim cap from her head, allowing her long snowy locks to fall softly onto her back. She dried herself briskly while Alucard admired her svelte body.

Even at fifty-two, she maintained that lithe athletic build, her arms hard and lean, her stomach taut, and her legs—_oh_, he loved her legs. Long, and graceful, and… scarred?

Alucard tilted his head, his smile waning. Scars. On _his _master? Her right eye had been taken from her by that war mongrel the Major, and now this?

Integra never had any scars, as far as he had known. He had always been there to staunch the bleeding with his tongue before the wound could get any worse, make it disappear before it could mar her flawless skin, he’d been doing so ever since she had been shot by her uncle.

But he hadn’t been there to stop whatever caused this. The thin white lines were prominent on her dusky skin, and they crisscrossed her ankles all the way up to the underside of her calves’. One scar started at her knee and ran a jagged pinkish line up her left thigh. It was ugly, and from the look of it, had taken the longest to heal.

It upset him.

But he stayed with his Cheshire smile.

“So, you were watching me? I suppose you have nothing better to do.” Integra droned.

“I woke up not too long ago…”

“Well. Good that you’re finally up.” Integra bent down to dry her legs. “I was worried I was going to have to spray holy water on yo—_Alucard!_”

Her shout made him break his focus from where he had been leering at her thighs. His shadows had snaked toward her subconsciously, tickling the soles of her feet. Alucard swiftly dispelled the shadows. 

Integra angrily whipped the towel, wrapping it tightly around her chest. “Keep your eyes from wandering any lower than my face, you goat.”

Though she looked displeased, her tone was oddly playful, and Alucard liked the sound of that teasing lilt.

“Not a problem for me. You have such a lovely face.” He simpered, and—just to annoy her some more—trailed his eyes, up and down her body appreciatively.

Integra was unaffected. “Spare me the chivalry.” She gave a roll of her blue eye.

His master began walking towards the large white doors that led to the west wing hall. Servants opened the doors for her, an elderly maid and young handsome butler. The maid seemed astonished by Alucard’s presence if not a bit frightened, the butler gave no indication that a towering vampire just strode pass him. Alucard paid no mind to them, following Integra like the loyal pet he was.

As they walked side by side down dimly lit hallways—that looked vastly different from how he remembered it—Alucard attempted to think of way to bring up Integra’s scars. Naturally, he would leave it alone, save it for tomorrows discussions, but it’s been _too_ long, and he was a curious creature. Integra was a capricious woman too; the scars might have something to do with her state of mind.

He must seek out a way to uproot why she had felt so in tune within herself, when she had been so dissonant before. He kind of missed that about her. In a disturbing way, it had made her a lot more like _him_.

“What is it Alucard?” Integra peered up at him.

“What is _what_, Master?”

She sighed. “Oh, come off it. I know you’re mulling over something when you’ve been quiet for more than ten minutes.”

He pondered for a moment. “Seras tells me there hasn’t been many hunts.”

“You spoke to her?”

“I’m speaking to her now.” Alucard flashed his teeth. His omnipresence was an extraordinary power he would never get used too; being everywhere, and nowhere. It was perhaps the most unstable permanent ability of his now. The thought of disappearing again crossed his mind. Regardless, he would reap its benefit. 

Integra made an intrigued noise but didn’t comment further on that notice.

“Well, that’s true. We’re in a docile age now. Things have been quite peaceful in England,” she gave a lazy wave of her hand, “Ah… aside from politics.”

They approached the east wing hall minutes later, Integra took a left at the long corridor that went both ways, there was stairway down that corridor, leading to the first floor that housed the guest rooms, and master’s bedroom.

Alucard played with their shadows casted on the walls as he ascended the stairs with his master. Contorting the silhouettes into grotesque figures. “Doesn’t it get boring?”

“Boring?” Integra scoffed, “I actually like the peace. We do get calls of unusual activity and I send Seras with a squad of men if it’s Midian activity… but nothing ever escalates.”

“Well_ that’s_ a disappointment.”

“_You _would think so.” She huffed. “Compared to the chaos decades ago, I’d rather have the two or three missions a year than an all-out war.”

They reached the top of the stairs; Integra’s resting chambers was four doors down from the stairway. Alucard spotted two guards on patrol, walking from the end of the hall. They briefly saluted Integra and bowed their heads courteously in his direction as they passed him.

That kind of respect coming from other humans, and soldiers at that, was still odd to Alucard. The only humans who had given him a lick of courtesy in the past after his servitude, had been Queen Elizabeth the II—May she rest in peace—Walter, before he had turned cloak, the Frenchman pip, and Integra.

Others were too afraid to even look in his direction, and the rest may have well as manipulated him into believing he was being treated with kindness. A sick distorted version of it. Well-deserved some might say. He didn’t want to think about that now.

“Was it difficult?”

Integra stopped in front of the door to her bedroom, one hand on the knob of the door, she looked up at him questionably.

“Building Hellsing back up from the bottom.” He elaborated.

Integra thinned her lips, seemingly agitated, then sighed, twisting the knob, “It wasn’t a cakewalk, that was for sure.” She stepped through the threshold. Alucard remained in the hallway.

She looked over her shoulder curiously, adjusting her towel. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Alucard raised an eyebrow, he had expected his master wanted privacy to change. “Of course,” he walked into her bedroom, she silently shut the door behind them. “forgive me if I’m cautious master. Last time I was here you riddled me with holes.”

“You tried to _bite _me,” Integra belittled, dropping her towel, “I should have had my silver bullets loaded.”

He chortled, taking a second gander at her slim figure, “_Mm_… That would have made it more fun.”

His master shook her head disapprovingly, but there was a telltale smirk at the corner of her lips. He watched as she quickly gathered a pair of under garments, and a blue bathrobe from her armoire. The bedroom was mostly dark, but the silvery light of the moon filtered in through the grandeur windows, giving the space a nearly ethereal glow.

Integra padded over to the master bathroom, “Wait here while I shower. Don’t _ruin _anything.”

The vampire humorously traced the shape of the cross over his heart, Integra rolled her eye once more, she shut the door to the bathroom behind her, and within minutes, Alucard could hear water running.

He was half-tempted to use his third eye vision to spy on her, ancient lecherous being that he was. But he stopped himself, his respect for Integra had grown immensely since his arrival. Instead he lurked about her bedroom, that looked the same as when he had arrived, save for the papers that he spotted lying about two months ago.

_The papers. _The ones with inscriptions written on them, some with his own seal drawn onto them, Alucard mused. They _had _looked suspicious to him. But he never gave them a second thought after being fed Integra’s virgin blood. Alucard grew tempted to look for those papers. Integra never said not to _touch_ anything.

He glanced to the bathroom, ribbons of steam curled beneath the door.

Dare he go through her things while she wasn’t aware of it?

He paced back, and forth before the bathroom door like an impatient dog. Then a minute later, he made up his mind. There were just too many clues all belonging to his master—the scars being one. He desperately wanted to figure her out. He’ll start by finding those papers.

Integra did not have elaborate furnishing in her master bedroom. There was only the queen-sized bed, the armoire, and the two nightstands on either side of the bed. One of which he knew, was where she kept her SIG-Sauer P220. Still, he manifested his shadows to sift through the drawers of both. Alucard glided towards the armoire while his extra hands helped him. He opened the intricate closet, at first look there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Just hangers of Integra’s expensive suits wrapped in plastic, neatly pressed blouses, stiff necked collars, shiny leather oxfords—he produced a third shadowy arm that opened the bottom drawer—Alucard’s eyebrows shot up.

Integra’s intimates greeted his eyes. But beneath those soft silk undergarments was parchment. His helping hands vanished within an instant, Alucard knelt to sift through Integra’s brassieres, he plucked the parchment from underneath.

Sure enough, there was the drawing of the pentacle. Though the parchment was oddly thick, it crinkled at the corners, Alucard curiously peeled back one corner, revealing another parchment that stuck to the first. His glowing eyes widened, he peeled back the paper all the way.

He stood. The first words he saw were written in shorthand, but he had learned to read shorthand long ago.

_Earth, air, fire, water, spirit, and blood_. The elements needed for alchemy. For sorcery.

He continued reading. Integra, it seemed, had stowed away a secret recipe.

“Your onus is broken,” He read quietly, “as the day and night begin. So, shall you walk free of both this day, and tomorrow again. This one I liberate from my blood, I liberate from my bonds, I liberate from my body… with power of both sides, of the light and of the dark, I revoke these words that had which have casted these chains.”

There was ringing that gone off in his head. Or perhaps it was outside, he did not know for sure.

This all seemed wrong. Dreadfully wrong.

There was more written though.

“Here is the last of the red… and the beginning to put away the dead…”

He knew this one already. It was his pledge of servitude to the Hellsing family. But his serpent tongue felt too thick in his mouth. The words came out slurred, slow, “… _Hermes_… The, bird of Hermes is my name…”

The bathroom door creaked open, Integra stepped out amidst the bellowing steam, loosely tying the blue bath robe around herself. “Ugh, I truly cannot _stand_ the smell of chlorine.” 

“Eating my wings to make me tame…”

She looked up, perplexed. Seeing her drawers all opened, and ravaged, and her vampire standing before her armoire, his back facing her, hunched, and… trembling.

She stepped towards him, one hand reaching out, “Alucard?”

“Tell me, Integra. _My master_,” he hissed, “have I served you well?”

The venom in his tone made her recoil. Good. He did not want to be touched by her lying hands. She furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she were not comprehending what he had asked, though it had been a simple question.

“What? What’re you talking about?”

He whirled around, his red coat swishing about him dramatically. He felt it deep down, in his blackened dead heart. Hurt. Fear. _Abandonment_. His darkness spilled from him in an ocean of ink, and soon not a flicker of light touched the bedroom. Even the noise of the outside was silenced by his dominating aura.

“Wasn’t I a _good_ servant, master?” He sneered, his fangs elongating, “Haven’t I given my all to you? Haven’t I killed and _maimed_ for you? Haven’t I fought a war for you?”

He stepped toward her, his head tilting, and his frightening mouth pulled back in a frown.

“Haven’t I _returned_ to you?”

Integra was not so alarmed by his darkness, but by his odd behavior. “Alucard. _What _are you talking about—” She than took notice of what he held in his hands. “What is that you have there?”

He let the parchment slip from his fingers, it floated eerily to his master, she grabbed it from the air. The look of recognition on her face made his stomach churn.

“This…” Her mouth twisted.

His growl caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. “You mean to _undue_ my bind to the Hellsing bloodline.”

Integra shook her head frantically. “No. No, that’s not—”

** _“YES!”_ **

Integra took a wary step back, her single blue eye stern, her body tense. “Alucard, _please _listen—”

“I came back to you.” He towered over her, and he could smell the uneasiness wafting from her. He could smell the iron. He could _taste_ the iron. The red blurred his vision. **“_For you!”_**

“How dare you raise your voice at me! _Calm. Down_.”

But her commands were lost on him. The parchment in her hands was cut into shreds by an invisible force. She gasped. He began stalking toward her, his eyes narrowed, glowing a vicious pink, his pale cheeks were stained with red, his obsidian hair became alive, wriggling like angry snakes.

“You…” He stepped forward, she stepped back. “Wanted… to get **_rid _**of me?!”

Integra’s back hit the wall. He caged her between his long arms, leering down at her.

“No!” She looked him in the eye, defiant. “No. You’re wrong!”

He gave a pitiless laugh.

Integra spoke evenly, barely heard over his forced laughter, but he heard well. “Alucard… I was not trying to get rid of you, I was trying to _free _you.”

_“Why?!”_ He snarled. Then softer, he whined, “… _Why?”_

There was an expression of repentance on her face. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. He could hear the beat of her heart quicken, smell the lavender soap on her skin. He wanted to lean down and bury his face into the crook of her neck. He wanted to lap at her flesh, he wanted to give her the vampires kiss, sink his aching fangs into her jugular vein. He was so close to it, so close to making her his.

Integra croaked, “Once upon a time there was a little girl, and a frightening monster.”

Alucard pulled back from her, puzzled. She continued, her head bowed. “The little girl was always so scared of the other monsters who prowled the night. She thought, she would never be able to conquer her fear of them.”

She sighed. “The little girl felt like a coward. Until the frightening monster spoke to her on one night, what he said had stirred something within the little girl.” Integra lifted her head, meeting his vibrant eyes.

“Do you remember what that was?”

He did. Alucard remembered everything having to do with his master. Even the littlest details, but he did not know what to make of it. He stayed silent.

“You are _more_ than human, he said.” Integra moved forward, and he moved back. His shadows’ slithering beneath his feet. “More than flesh, and blood. You are above them all, he said. A Valkyrie, he called her, something divine.”

Integra smiled ruefully, “And the little girl… let it _all_ get to her head.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Alucard grumbled. He could not understand. Not even swiping into her thoughts gave him an answer.

“I have to show you something.”

Integra turned around, untying the knot of her robe. She let it slip halfway from her delicate shoulders, so it bunched at her waist. She then unclipped her bra, allowing it to fall on the floor near his feet, and brushed away her thick white hair to reveal more tawny skin.

Alucard took in a breath he did not need, completely baffled by his master’s boldness. His shadows receded within him, but his midnight hair still coiled and danced curiously above. The moonlights silver rays once again poured into the dark room, illuminating his master who bared herself to the vampire.

His mouth opened, his rose-tinted eyes luminous as he observed the patchwork on her skin. Thin lines, lighter than the rest of her, decorated her back in myriad of jagged crisscrosses. There were more than there had been on her legs. Some were a pale pink, and slightly puckered. Some looked chillingly like the claws of a wild animal.

He could tell by the manner of which the scars had healed, some were old, and some had happened not too long ago. 

There was one that caught his eye from the rest, however. One that looked so grotesque, it irked him to see such a disfigurement on his otherwise perfect master. It was not very big, the scar was three centimeters long, a half centimeter wide and a darker tone, it left a nasty shriveled indent on her skin; suggesting a sharp penetration. He recognized scars like this one, for he had suffered them many times before, in his past life.

He stepped closer to her, lowering himself slightly to peer down at her scarred flesh.

Integra whispered, “Can you see it?”

“This is a sword wound…” he inquired, more to himself than her.

“Yes.” She breathed softly, “… from my own sword no less.”

He lifted his gloved hand, “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

With uncharacteristic gentleness, he trailed two fingers across the sword wound of her back; he felt Integra suppress a shiver, and he suppressed one of his own. He could feel how her flesh had mended itself, the scar was slightly bumpy in texture, and narrow just as it looked. It may not had taken many stitches to close it, but what mattered was the internal damage it might’ve caused.

Especially from where the wound was placed; on the left side of her lower back, just below where the seventh rib would be. How close had that sword been to piercing her lung?

He scowled, emitting a low rumbling growl. His free hand clenched tightly, and the pentacle of his gloves flashed a brighter red.

“How—_When_…”

“Fifteen years ago.” Integra started. “Seras and I were overseas in the United States. On the call that there had been outlandish massacres in a popular casino in the city of Los Vegas, Nevada.”

Alucard’s fingers remained on her scarred flesh, lightly tracing each one with grim fascination and a tumultuous silent rage, but he listened intently.

She shuddered at his cold touch, and at the memory. “Vampiric activity I was told. Every tourist had been drained of their blood. Men, women and children. All turned too ghouls, this informant told me. He had evidence, sent us horrific pictures, clips of undead parents devouring their children… he claimed his daughter had been kidnapped and turned.”

Integra stepped away from Alucard’s cooling touch, the vampire frowned but said nothing. She lifted the blue robe that’d bunched at her waist, and covered herself once more, but did not tie it.

“I don’t know…” She turned to face him. Her modest breasts peaking through the folds of the robe, bare too his eyes, but he could not focus on that—he could only see the scars. The stab wound that could have killed her, was prominent on this side too. Dark, ugly, and threatening.

“I should have never answered that call… suspicious as it was, but I _am_ a Hellsing. My duty is to exterminate impure souls of the living dead.”

“So, you went to see for yourself?” 

“Yes… and we were ambushed.”

Integra scoffed, her eye flashing a stormy blue. “It was bollocks! I was so gullible to have fell for their trick.”

She turned, marched to her bed, and sat at the edge. Running a hand through her thick white mane. “I was so _angry._ I was blinded by my rage just… watching my men, _my_ new recruits fall to those demons, all over again!”

She craned her neck to look at her towering vampire, there was sadness in her single blue eye.

“Seras had gone off searching for the girl. It was only me and five other men in that Casino.”

The elder vampire glowered, “She should have been _protecting_ you—”

“I _ordered_ her leave, Alucard.” Integra retorted. But that only served to increase the intensity of his glowering. His master sighed exasperatedly. “I know. _I know_ it was foolish… but I wasn’t thinking straight. There were two vampires on the loose, and Seras cannot be in _two_ places at once.”

He winced. It wasn’t a jab at him, yet it still felt like one.

Integra continued her story. “Just when I thought I had cleaved my way through hordes of dead flesh. I saw him.” Her lip curled in disgust. “And I knew it was him from that barmy smirk on his face. All I saw was _red_, and then it was as if my body had gone on autopilot. I ran after him. My men were surrounded by that vampire’s ghouls. I was being singled out, lead on a wild goose chase and I was aware of it—but I didn’t care.” She seethed, her fingers digging into the fabric of her quilts. “All I know is I_ wanted_ his head.”

Alucard stared at her, he had always loved that feral look on his master’s beautiful face. Where that inner tigress she kept caged within herself was finally freed… but in this instance, all he felt was something akin to guilt, and a bit of regret.

“He led me to a car park. I was so driven to kill him, I held off on my own for some time, I took his arm, I almost took his unlife, but then he bested me.”

“That wound, inches away from your lung… _bested?_” Alucard sneered, “The scum incapacitated you, with your _own_ sword no less.”

His master bowed her head, ashamed. “Yes. Seras had arrived on the scene, she had struck him, he lost his balance when he pierced me, but it was not my lungs he was aiming for… had it not been for Seras, I would not be here today.”

Integra clasped her hands on her lap, keeping her gaze situated on the floor, “But you know Alucard… it took my near death for me to realize I had never once thought myself as an average human.”

Alucard snorted, then erupted into an all-out cackle. He hadn’t meant to sound mocking, but it was a knee-jerk reaction to what she had said. He just found it _so_ humorous. So _baffling_.

Integra did not crack a smile, however, her face remained stoic as she spoke over his obnoxiousness laughter. “It’s true. For all the talk I did of being a proud human, I never once thought myself as one. Not even after assassinating the Major, _no_, not even after his worthless war.”

She looked up at him then with an expression of awe, and he ceased his fit of giggles. She inhaled as if were drawing her last breath. “You see, in my head… I was something else. I was everything I could be, I was… above.”

Her iris became a clouded blue; It was as if she weren’t even looking at him, but through him, to some other far off place.

“It was only when I lay there, bleeding on the asphalt, in the middle of a neon lit city with the sweltering heat all around me… that I truly _felt_ human.”

How utterly ridiculous, he had heard enough. In a split second Alucard dissolved into his shadows and reappeared in front of her, kneeling, his face inches from hers and his fangs bared in a half grin, half scowl. He looked crazed. “You were almost _dead_.”

His growl-like whisper did not move her. She spoke of her near death so fondly it made his blood boil; what was with this woman, who was she? Where was his adamant master?

Integra smiled gently as she gazed down at him, that only served to rile the vampire more so.

“Seras saved me… and you did too.”

He blinked, puzzled. She went on, “While I lay there, sure that I was going to die of blood loss, I wasn’t thinking of the agony, I couldn’t feel it, really. I wasn’t even thinking of how I had tarnished my Hellsing name, my organization… No—” Integra leaned down, cupping his stone-cold face in her palms, “I was thinking that if I died, right there, I would never be able to see you again.”

Her warm breath ghosted over his parted lips, “So I couldn’t die. Not yet, at least.” she wiped away the trail of red that stained his cheeks, whispering, “Not until you returned to me.”

Alucard relaxed in his master’s hands. His eyes half-lidded as she treated him with an affection he only ever fantasized about. He basked in their warmth, his master’s hands that were worn and thin. They nearly felt like the late Queens, if not for the tough skin of her palm. Integra was a knight, after all. A warrior. A war-leader. Someone who took on orders from high above and lead their armies. She was not a Queen. She would never be his Queen.

It dawned on him than, what she had been trying to tell him. He glanced into her blue eye that rivaled a softness for him he had never seen before, and that stung his old dead heart.

“You embraced your mortality…”

“Yes. I did. Alucard, I am _not _immortal, I never was. I have always been human, and I can die like any human. That is the harsh truth I had too accept.”

So that was it. The peace within her, was her accepting her humanity, accepting death. Perhaps he had tried to persuade her that she was—_could_ have been so much more than that when she had been younger, because he was selfish. He had wanted to pry open her brilliant blue eyes and make her see what a glorious creature she was or could have been. Hell, she was one now.

Alucard wanted her, he did. Deep, deep, down, he wanted his equal, his Countess. He wanted his No-Life Queen. A wretched title he had made his own. They would be damned together, live an eternity with his fledgling, a terror of a family.

_This_ was why he despised dreams, they were rubbish in the end. Somewhere in the recesses of his past; Abraham Van Helsing’s slurred speech reached his undead ears.

_She will never be yours! Miserable No-life King!_

That was _his _harsh truth he must now accept. Fresh blood poured from the vampire’s lidded eyes. Integra murmured, “That is why I sought to free you, Oh Alucard, stop that—” She swiped the rivulets of blood from his cheeks, to no avail, “Once I’m gone, the seals that bind you to Hellsing will fade away. And whether you wish it or not, you will be free.”

“… What will I do when you’re gone?”

“Carry on.” Integra teetered, as if that were the most obvious answer. “Come now, Alucard, it won’t be difficult. Join Seras and Penwood Junior in the Government Run Agency. Perhaps travel, get some hobbies that isn’t just… eviscerating the undead.”

“And what if I should seek to hunt and drink the blood of humans?” He choked out. She must understand how dangerous it would be to let him loose!

Yet his dear master only shook her head. “You won’t. The Irons family oversees plasma distribution, they have ties with multiple blood banks in England. There’s more than enough for two vampires. You will not starve, believe me.”

“And if I lose myself to blood lust?” He pushed, “If I wish to rise in power once more, conquer and kill once more?”

“You won’t. That’s not who are anymore.” She said with such finality, the vampire deflated. But she was right, wasn’t she?

“… I am a monster.” He rumbled, because truthfully that was all he knew what to be.

“Yes.” Integra grasped his cheeks, canting his face upward so that the tips of their noses touched. “But you are _my_ monster. You are _my _Count, as you were a Count in the past were you not? You can still _be_ someone, Alucard. I trust you, don’t throw away my trust. I would be…”

She leaned down further, tilting her head so that her lips brushed against his, “… Sorely disappointed.”

He shivered as their lips met for a mere second. Just an innocuous peck, but to him it was the sealing of a new promise. Integra pulled away from him.

“Now you know.”

“Yes… my Countess.”

He made to stand but Integra grabbed a hold of his wrist, a sly smile adorning her lips, and a twinkle in her blue eye. “Alucard, you may not be allowed to have my soul. But… there is one thing I can give you. And it is just as pure.”

Alucard raised an eyebrow. “Your heart?”

She scoffed. “No, you dimwitted corpse of a man, you have my heart already. You’ve _always _had. I just… never considered you, I was afraid back then... No,” She tugged him in with one hand, and slightly parted her robe with the other. “I meant… _something else_.”

* * *

On the ground level of the manor, Seras focused on releasing pip into walls. It was midnight now, and time to lock up. Sir Integra certainly did not like it when Seras lagged on her duties. The Draculina concentrated thoroughly, until she had layered the walls of the ground floor with her familiar.

She dusted her hands on another safe night. “Alright. Pip, that should do it. Make sure to do your scans on _all_ floors of the manor. Not just the ground floor. And don’t peek into Sir Integra’s chambers, you know she doesn’t like being watched when she sleeps!”

The walls were alive with the Frenchman’s groan, “Oui, Oui. I heard you, chérie!”

Seras nodded. Then she sensed a comforting presence behind her. She turned, smiling, “Mast—!”

Her smile fell. “Master!… You’re crying.”

“Seras.” Alucard was without his signature red overcoat he had been wearing earlier, he was even missing the red ascot usually worn around his neck. And though his cheeks were_ indeed_ stained red, his eyes were heavily lidded, and he was smiling wistfully. He looked drunk but not on blood, more as if he’d stumbled upon the gates of heaven. It worried her.

“Master, is everything alright?”

He sauntered over to his fledgling, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Seras blinked. “Eh… for what?”

“Being there for her,” He squeezed her shoulder slightly, “when I couldn’t.”

The gears in Seras’s brain began turning. The blood she drank hours ago rushed to her cheeks, painting her face a rosy hue. She scratched the back of her head sheepishly.

“Aw, Master, well… you don’t need to _thank_ me… It-it was the honorable thing to do, and well, I’m sure you would’ve haunted my dreams if I abandoned her.”

Her master only chuckled in response.

He dropped his hand, gazed upward at the ceiling, closed his eyes then exhaled. Seras cocked her head.

“Seras.” He cracked open one pinkish eye to glance down at his fledgling.

“Yes, Master?”

“Tell me, how would _you_ spend an eternity?”

_ **-fin-** _


End file.
